chapter 53
TEAM 3, YEAR: 2095
Time Remaining: 5 minutes
Still hiding with the twins behind the curtain inside the Burton Auditorium, Spencer glanced down at his watch, his heart racing. He could feel beads of sweat growing on his forehead. Terror crackled through his body like lightning as he watched the presentation draw to a close. His lack of a plan made it feel as though every cell in his body was becoming more unsettled, and he could do nothing but watch his window of opportunity close further with each passing second. He could feel his limbs begin to vibrate.
“I have time for one more question,” Ian announced.
A woman’s voice spoke from the back. “If the robots have human personalities, and by extension, human instincts, two of the most fundamental human instincts are self-preservation and the continuation of the species. How will the robots react when they find out that, for one, the production levels of robots is dictated by humans, and two, there is a limited amount of Elevanium allocated to their existence?”
The robot looked from the crowd to Ian; the robot’s casual posture stiffened and his facial expression turned cloudy. The robot watched Ian, waiting for an explanation of this concept he could not understand. Its eyes changed from a vibrant blue to purple.
Ian stepped in front of the robot, cutting it off from the crowd. “We have no reason to believe that these robots will be anything other than docile and obedient. The people who donated their personalities for this project were healthy, intelligent people, who passed their psychological evaluations with flying colours. These robots will inherit morals and ethics as a part of those donated personalities and from that, they will inherently know what is and isn’t acceptable behaviour.”
The crowd was silent. No one challenged Ian’s explanation.
Spencer felt like the fog in his brain instantly cleared. For the first time in days, he saw everything clearly and he knew exactly what to do. Without hesitation, he stepped out from the shadows of the curtain and took the steps to the stage two at a time, still clutching his documents. He heard Asher and Logan whisper-yelling his name.
“I’m sorry, Ian, but that is incorrect,” said Spencer. He walked to the centre of the great stage, stopping just outside Ian’s reach. He held up the papers for the room to see. “This is comprehensive testing data that shows results extremely contrary to what the Project Director has just indicated.”
The faces in the audience looked confused. They think I’m crazy, he thought. “I’m Spencer Grayson, and I’ve been working on the personality development of this project from day one. I was unsatisfied with the testing criteria that our team was given to work with. I developed a stricter battery of tests and retested the personalities. I was right to be concerned. The results are very unsettling.” Spencer stepped down off the stage and straight to Travis Ryerson, the largest private financial backer. Spencer handed Travis the twenty-two summary reports generated by the Real Life Simulator.
Travis took the document and read the first page. His eyes grew large as they scanned the page. He flipped to the next page and then the next. The crowd waited in silence while Travis read.
“Are these results accurate?” Travis asked incredulously. Spencer nodded as Travis handed the document to the senator sitting to his right. People in the row behind leaned forward to get a glimpse of the report over the senator’s shoulder.
Spencer noticed four security guards inching their way down the sides of the auditorium. He knew his time was running out.
Ian jumped in to do damage control. “Spencer’s testing methods weren’t psychologically sound. The results are invalid. In fact, Spencer has recently been fired for insubordination.”
“Regardless, they’re worth paying attention to. I’m interested in Spencer’s opinion,” said Travis.
Spencer pulled the test results of the five modified personalities out of his bag and handed the document to Travis. “My co-workers and I developed a solution.” This was the time to credit his colleagues. “We found that if you limit the emotional range of what robots can feel, it eliminates all of the behaviour that falls outside of social norms, for example, the capacity for violence, while still allowing them to feel reasonable amounts of negative emotions like anger and sadness.” Seeing the security guards getting closer, Spencer retreated back up the steps and onto the stage, out of easy reach.
“Spencer,” asked Travis, still reading the results. “If you alter the emotional range of the robots, that wouldn’t be true AEI. Wouldn’t that undermine the mandate of the project?”
“That depends on your perception. I say no. Sure, the personalities are modified, but they’ll still feel and base decisions on those feelings. I don’t think it’s a failure. But no matter what your perception is, I think our friend here can demonstrate why it’s important.”
Spencer walked up to the robot. “Do you think it’s fair that humans dictate when you get to live? When you are decommissioned? In essence, when you die?”
The robot thought for a moment. “No, we as a species should control that.”
Spencer pointed at Ian but addressed the robot. “People like him don’t feel that you’re capable of making those decisions.”
The robot stared intently at Ian and shook its head. “That isn’t fair, how can you expect us…”
Spencer intentionally cut the robot off. “Do you feel that you need to obey human laws and, by extension, adhere to the restrictions humans dictate for how your species must live within our society?”
The robot scoffed. “Absolutely not. You humans aren’t efficient. Your obsession with money and possessions is ludicrous. Why would we participate in something so pointless?”
With Spencer’s advantage of hindsight, he knew exactly what buttons to press to get the robot worked up. He shrugged carelessly. “It’s a human world. We’re at the top. We make the rules. We made you.”
The robot said nothing, but his posture bristled.
Spencer continued needling the robot. “And did you know that this man,” pointing again to Ian, “controls your species? He essentially acts as your God. He decides how many of you are made. He decides when you should be destroyed. How does it make you feel knowing that your species will never flourish the way other species on the planet have because he decides how much Elevanium your species should be allowed? Elevanium, as you know, is the power source that gives you life. He stands between you and control of your own destiny.”
Spencer was not prepared for what happened next and he may have felt sorry for Ian if he had not been—what had Asher so eloquently called him—“such an ignorant assclown.” The robot lunged at Ian and pinned him against the window at the back of the stage. The crowd immediately began to buzz and several people screamed. As Spencer strode to the back of the stage, Ian sputtered and his face turned red, the robot choking him easily with one hand. Spencer hit the power override button at the base of the robot’s head. The robot immediately froze where it stood. Ian fell from the robot’s steely grip and crumpled to his knees, coughing and rubbing his neck.
Spencer crouched down and touched Ian on the shoulder. “You alright?”
Ian recoiled like Spencer had touched him with a red hot fire poker. “I’m fine.”
Spencer could not help but take a certain amount of satisfaction from the scene that lay before him. Ian, usually very much in control and dressed impeccably, sat crumpled on the floor. His typically crisp pants were dusty from the stage floor and the purple rose in his pocket looked as limp as his credibility. With his back to the crowd, Spencer winked and smiled at Ian. He spoke quietly so only Ian could hear. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t give you the chance to see logic. You didn’t listen, and now this moment will be your legacy. This is how you’re going to be remembered. Would you like to rethink your position?”
Ian said nothing, but glared at Spencer.
Spencer shrugged, stood, then walked back to the front of the stage.
“To fi
nish answering your question, Travis, you are correct in a sense—it wouldn’t be true AEI. Emotional Intelligence is a relative term. My emotional intelligence is different from yours, which is why the range of behaviour and personalities among humans is so vast. True AEI isn’t possible when you base it on a human’s. Robots can’t be humans any more than humans can be made into robots. We can replicate human behaviour in robots if they are programmed with limits. But to expect a machine to experience the very essence of what it is to be human is as unreasonable as expecting a human to be a car or a tree.”
“So you’re saying this project is another failure?” barked an investor from the front row, several seats down from Travis.
“Absolutely not.” Passion flared in Spencer’s eyes for the first time in months. It was a thrill to talk about the project’s high points instead of scrutinizing its failings. “I think it was an unprecedented success.”
He saw the guards holding their position at the edges of the stage. Spencer glanced back over his shoulder to look at Ian, but he was gone.
“We’ve created robots that will integrate into businesses and society with minimal instruction and maintenance. They’ll be able to learn and interact with humans in a meaningful way. They can help where society has so many shortcomings. Imagine a hospital where instead of one nurse to forty patients, there’s one robot to every three patients. Robots can not only perform some of the daily duties that overburden our medical system but also keep patients company and listen to them. Imagine a school where there are robots dedicated to identifying learning disabilities and able to teach in a way that your child will understand.” The expressions on the faces of the audience members looked pleased and he saw something in their eyes that looked like hope. “No, this project didn’t fail at all. It’s been a greater success than we could have imagined. It’s just that it was a by-product of a different goal.”
Spencer heard his watch begin to beep as Travis stood up and clapped. Others quickly followed. The timeshift! Spencer saw the countdown timer on his watch was blinking 00:00:00:00 and the beeping became drowned by the roar of the standing ovation before him. The crushing weight on his shoulders lifted and he felt lighter than he ever remembered being. He looked to the side of the stage to see the twins smiling and giving him a thumbs up.
A crowd of people congregated at the front of the stage, waiting for Spencer with more questions. At the back of the emptying auditorium, he saw Kalen. She smiled at him and blew him a kiss. He was surprised and confused to see her and wanted nothing more than to run to her. However, he had no time to think about it because Delaney and several NRD board members approached him, shook his hand and reinstated his position.
“I have time for only a few questions,” he said, and everyone asked their question in concert.
Spencer spent only ten minutes with the group before drawing the line. “Alright, that’s it. This project has consumed me for too long and I need to sleep.” The crowd chuckled. “If you have any further questions, please contact me, but I’m taking a few days’ vacation before I answer any of them. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s someone I’ve been putting off for too long.”
He stepped through the thinning crowd. He took Kalen’s hand and kissed her palm. “Let’s get out of here.” He looked over his shoulder at the twins and Delaney. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit.”